


What is Real? (An "It’s a Wonderful Life" Avengers AU)

by twangcat



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, but it's very dark before it gets there, homophobic violence, it has a happy ending, this is dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-06 08:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5410124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twangcat/pseuds/twangcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Avengers, Phil Coulson has no friends, (no Clint), and no hope for the future. He begins to wonder if the world wouldn’t be better off if he’d never been born, when an unexpected visitor shows him a different world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Phil eyed the bottle of pills in his hand and ran through his reasoning again.

His family thought he was dead.

Except for Nick, so did all of his friends – he scoffed at the word ‘friends’, did he even have real friends? He had colleagues, people who followed orders and people who issued orders, but it wasn’t the same as having friends.

He thought about blue eyes that sparkled with mischief and brilliance and sighed again. Clint had been the bright spot of his day for years. It was a mental workout to follow how he thought because he was so damn good at looking at a problem from a dozen different perspectives without breaking a sweat, and watching the man sweat during an actual workout… well a man would have to be dead not to respond to that sight.

And that thought brought Phil back to the reality of the bottle of pills in his hand. Clint, like everyone else Phil had known before the Battle of New York, thought he was dead and Phil was seriously considering if that wasn’t the better option.

Thousands of people had died in New York because, in classic Phil Coulson style, Phil's desire to do the “right” thing had overrun his common sense and he’d gone in to face down a god without backup; everything that happened afterwards was his fault. The last straw had been reading the obituaries again today. One name, listed alphabetically among so many others: Tommy Tennyson.

It shouldn’t mean anything, not after all these years; he hadn’t spoken to Tommy or even thought about him in decades; but Tommy had been his first kiss – a sweet boy, quick to smile and clever too. It had taken months of small signs to lead up to that first tentative kiss and when it finally happened, the first clumsy press of his lips had ignited a fire inside teenage Phil that he hadn’t known was possible. For a very short time his touch had made Phil deaf and blind to everything else in the world. According to the obituary, Tommy and his husband had both died leaving behind a 12-year-old orphan boy.

Phil felt sick. All his life his need to do the right thing and determination to face down bullies that were bigger and stronger than him had been getting him and others into trouble; but this time his actions had resulted in the deaths of thousands, and yet Phil was alive.

Phil poured eight of the little pills into his hand. That dose was guaranteed to be lethal to a man his size and it would be quick.

Suddenly a chubby cheeked balding man stumbled into Phil’s room and wailed, “Oh, please help me, I’ve cut myself!”

He was gushing blood down his arm at an alarming rate and going pale. Phil dropped the bottle and hit the panic button beside his bed, he caught the man just as he collapsed and lowered him to the ground. Where the hell were the nurses? Phil made a split second decision and grabbed the medical kit from beside his bed. He’d ripped his stitches so many stitches during his hospital stay that the nurses had started leaving a kit with the supplies in his room so they could touch them up easily; the supplies weren’t exactly the same as the ones he remembered from field medical kits, but he could work with them.

Phil bellowed out, “Nurse! Help! This man needs medical attention!”

His words echoed down the hall and returned nothing but silence.

Phil cursed the suddenly absent medical staff and opened the medical kit. If he could just stop the bleeding the man would be fine.

Ten minutes later no one had responded to any of his cries for help, but the stranger’s wound had been cleaned and stitched up. He was just about to go find out where the hell the medical staff was when the man opened his eyes and smiled up at Phil.

The smaller man said cheerfully, “Well that turned out all right didn’t it?”

Phil raised an eyebrow at him and said, “All right? You nearly bled out in my room. What happened?”

The man smiled brightly at him, “Well I needed you to need to save my life instead of ending yours, so I cut myself.”

A less-composed man would have sputtered but Phil just said, “Excuse me?”

The man said, “That’s what those pills were for, weren’t they? You were going to kill yourself.”

Phil started running through all the psychic inhumans he was aware of. “Who are you?”

The man hopped to his feet and stuck out his hand. “I’m Clarence. I’m your guardian angel.”

Phil shook his hand (it was only polite). “You’re an angel?”

Clarence nodded enthusiastically.

Phil clarified, “What kind of angel?”

Clarence cocked his head to the side and frowned at him in puzzlement. “Well how many different kinds of angel do you know of, Phil? I’m an angel from heaven.”

Phil said reasonably, “Where are your wings?”

Clarence looked mournfully down at his shoes. “Well I haven’t earned them yet.” Then he brightened. “But you’ll help me get my wings, won’t you Phil?”

Phil stopped himself from sighing. This man needed a different kind of medical attention. “Of course I will. Now let’s go find the nurses and see about getting your arm fixed up.”

Clarence said, “Oh they are out there, I just asked my boss to shield us for a while so we could talk.”

Phil eyed him warily but whatever he was, Clarence clearly knew what was on his mind tonight. Phil said, “There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t want to live. After what I’ve done, I don’t deserve to and in fact, I wish I’d never been born at all. The world would be better off.”

Clarence said, “If you’d never been born? Well now… that’s an idea…” Clarence nodded. “Alright then, it’s done. You’ve never been born.”

Phil raised an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?”

Clarence almost giggled, “You’ve never been born. Check your chest, no wound. You never lived so you’ve never been hurt.”

Phil’s eyes went wide with shock. “You can’t do that! No inhuman has that much power.”

Clarence shook his head. “I keep telling you. I’m not an inhuman, I’m an angel.”

Phil nodded distractedly. “Right an angel. Well let’s go check this out.”

Phil reached for his phone, but it was gone. Phil was not a man who forgot where he’d left his phone. He patted his pockets and checked the draws. His starkphone was nowhere to be found; all he could find was an old clunky cellular phone, not even a smart phone.

“Where’s my starkphone?”

Clarence shook his head sadly. “No starkphones if Mr. Stark never switched to phone manufacturing.”

“What do you mean?” exclaimed Phil.

Clarence said, “It’s Christmas Eve, why don’t we go see Mr. Stark ourselves?”

Phil couldn’t suppress his surprise. “You can teleport too?”

Clarence said, “No, I keep telling you Phil, I haven’t got my wings yet. But my boss’ll take us.”

Phil said, “Ok, let’s go.”


	2. Chapter Two

The loud base of the music thumped through the walls of Tony’s mansion.

Phil remembered the first few times he met Tony. The man was arrogant and wild but he’d been willing to listen to reason, especially once Pepper had been persuaded to support SHIELD. Going through Pepper Potts had been Phil’s idea and she had certainly made Tony more open to the idea of working with them. Of course, Phil had still threatened to taze him if he didn’t behave, but that was what Tony needed. He needed both the soft touch and the responsible father figure that he hadn’t seen in Howard. He was a lot like Clint in that regard. When Clint had first been brought in he’d both craved and hated authority. Tony was to Pepper what Clint was to Phil, and Pepper and Phil both knew how to handle their charges.

Nick hadn’t recognized that because he'd known Howard as an equal; Tony knew Howard as an absent father. They might as well have been two separate men. Nick and Phil had argued late into the night about how to recruit Tony. In the end, Nick had agreed to go with the consultant approach that Natasha and Phil recommended. Nick was a good boss; he was the kind who knew when to take the advice of his team.

The music only got louder as they approached. Clearly this Stark was more like the man Coulson had recruited than the Avenger he had become.

Inside, the room was filled with bodies; beautiful men and women in skimpy clothing, power suits, and cocktail dresses, and serving staff all filling up house so it thrummed with energy, heat, and noise. It was the party of the century and in the center of it was Tony Stark, decked out in a party hat with two women, showing more flesh than clothing, hanging off his arms. Phil tried to make his way towards Tony but the press of bodies was too much and short of shoving people out of his way, he couldn’t make any progress.

Phil looked around the room and reconsidered his objective. In the room were a lot of other people he knew, not many of whom he wanted to talk to. Right off the bat he recognized people from Hammer Industries, the Ten Rings, and several international terrorist organizations; and that left a sinking feeling in his chest. These were not people he wanted to talk to to find out about what was going on with Tony. Off to the side he recognized a flash of strawberry-blond hair and changed direction. Pepper would talk to him and be able tell him what was happening.

It took him some time to get to her, and when he did, he was surprised. She looked older than he remembered; her face had more lines and her eyes looked tired – like she had given up hope.

She was standing by the open window and the distance from the speakers made this one of the few spaces where conversation would actually be possible.

Phil said, “Pepper, I know you weren’t expecting to see me and I can explain, but first I need to know what’s happened to Tony. Why is he hosting these people? Where is SHIELD?”

Pepper’s eyes were glazed with drink and she eyed him suspiciously. “Excuse me, but who are you?”

Phil’s mind whirled. Pepper was not a practical joker, if she didn’t even recognize him then whatever Clarence had done had had a major impact on the world as he knew it; but Coulson was famous for his ability to roll with the punches on a mission, so he in a split second he re-evaluated and changed approach. “Pardon me, Miss. Potts, I was merely curious where the SHIELD reps were. They should be at any Stark event this large.”

Pepper scoffed a laugh. “SHIELD? Why would they be here?” She gave small shrug. “A few years ago, SHIELD approached Stark Industries but Mr. Stark wasn’t interested. I’m sorry, but who are you to be asking these questions?”

Phil hesitated, but he trusted Pepper and in his universe, she trusted him; so he gave her a partial truth. “I’m Phil Coulson, we met a few years ago at a technology convention and I’m worried about Tony. I thought he’d decided to pursue non-military technology?”

Pepper patted his shoulder, “You’ve got stars in your eyes and still believe in people, that’s nice to see.” She looked wistfully over at Tony. “I’m not sure I believe anymore. Tony talked about getting out of military tech, but instead he decided to control all the military tech. He calls it ‘privatizing world peace’ but the truth is I’m worried about him too.” Pepper colored and covered her mouth with her hand.

She stepped away from him and her gaze sobered and sharpened. “Excuse me, Mr. Coulson, where did you say we met?”

Coulson knew when his cover was blown and made a graceful exit. “It was the Stark convention a few years back, but I’m afraid I must be going. Let’s catch up another time soon.” He shook her hand and then let the thronging crowd swallow him.

He found Clarence just outside the main doors of the house. Phil was putting the pieces together and he didn’t like the way the puzzle looked. He said, “Clarence, Stark never joined up with SHIELD did he? Nick’s good but he lacks a soft touch.”

Clarence nodded sadly. “Stark and SHIELD are not on friendly terms.”

Phil turned to face Clarence eye-to-eye. “But even without Stark, the battle of New York went better right? Tommy and all those people survived?”

Clarence hedged, “Well there’s was no battle of New York but Tommy...” Clarence looked away and trailed off.

Phil pinned Clarence with his stare. “Explain, Clarence.”

Clarence’s words tumbled out in a rush. “Well Thor never made it back to Asgard. He was imprisoned by SHIELD when he was human. Without you and Hawkeye there to see that there was more to him than met the eye, he was charged with trespassing and imprisoned. He has been working his way through the system and,” Clarence added hopefully, “he's due to be released on parole next year.” Then he continued in a more somber tone. “Without Thor to intervene, Loki was named king of Asgard and since he stayed busy there, he never led the attack. He is still moderately content ruling Asgard, so he never made his second bargain and there was no battle of new York, but I'm afraid Tommy died a long time ago." 

Phil said, “What happened?”

Clarence pulled Phil away from where anyone might hear what he had to say and said, “Do you remember what happened when you were younger with Tommy?”

The scene flickered through his memory like an old movie reel.

_Teenage Phil Coulson wore his letterman jacket with pride but he wished he had someone to give it to like his teammates did. Unfortunately it was the ‘80s in Midwest America and Phil was just a few weeks away from being beaten black and blue after being caught sharing his first kiss with Tommy Tennyson under the bleachers. Phil would be kicked off the football team the week after and it would be years before he dared kiss another boy – in the intervening time he would become a master in self-defense and learn the skills that would help him earn his place among the Rangers._

When Phil opened his eyes he and Clarence were in a cold and silent graveyard. It was just outside the church Phil had scuffed his shoes in every Sunday until he’d finally left home.

There was a grave outside the church fence boundary – in the place where they bury the unwanted, the unredeemed, and the unbaptised. One old tombstone, with the letters faded by wind and rain, said: Tommy Tennyson, 1966 – 1983.

Phil looked at the angel in confusion and the vision before them changed. Behind him he saw the bleachers from his old high school. Tommy and another boy were fumbling their way through first kisses and more when a holler broke them apart. Phil remembered his stomach clenching in fear and telling Tommy to run while he faced the boys down himself; but in this vision neither boy ran and the other boys approached them as an angry disgusted mob.

Phil remembered trying to talk the guys down and reminding them that they had been friends for years, he’d promised to quit the team and begged them not to do anything rash; but in this vision Tommy yelled back at the angry mob and told them to go to hell. It just made their anger flare hotter and the blows land harder. Phil didn’t need to see what happened next to understand the tombstone outside the churchyard fence. The Midwest was not a good place to be gay in the early ‘80s.

Phil had to blink back tears. He thought nothing from so long ago could hurt worse than the memory of the shame and hurt he’d felt knowing his friends could turn on him like that, but he would take that beating a thousand times if it meant they all got to live. Hoarse with choked back grief he said, “I wish I’d been there to protect Tommy.”

Clarence said gently, “You always had more courage than anyone else around and you saved a lot of people before you even joined SHIELD.”

Phil’s head snapped up and he looked at Clarence again. He was afraid to ask but he’d never let fear stop him before. “What happened to SHIELD. Did Nick give Maria my job? She’d be good as his right hand.”

Clarence hesitated. “I’m not sure how to tell you this, Phil.”

Phil ordered, “Take me to Nick right now.”

With a heavy sigh Clarence took Phil’s hand and the world around them faded away.

The snowy landscape was replaced by cold sand dunes under the moonlight. There was no one around as far as the eye could see and the desert was abandoned.

Phil didn’t let go of Clarence’s hand, he knew this place and he knew they wouldn’t need to stay here long. Phil said, “Nick didn’t just lose his eye when he was taken prisoner, did he? Why didn’t anyone go after him?”

Clarence said gently, “It was a fool’s mission, Phil. You went against orders to rescue him. There was no one else crazy enough to even try.”

Phil kicked at the sand in helpless rage, “They never even found the body. Nick would have gone back in for any ONE of them!” Phil wanted to yell at his old squadmates, to shake them by the shoulders until they remembered that they could never give up on each other. Yes, it had been a crazy mission, against orders and with little hope of success, but he couldn’t abandon his teammate – especially not his best friend, it just wasn’t who he was. It was the same with Clint. He _couldn’t_ not try to take down Loki, not when he had Clint under his thrall; Clint was too precious to him for Phil to ever not do everything in his power to try to save him.

Clarence shook his head slowly no. “I’m sorry. Nick was declared MIA and then later declared killed in action. He was posthumously awarded a medal for bravery. His name is scribed on the memorial bell with all the other lost soldiers. It’s a beautiful place and the ringing of the bell in the wind is lovely – it’s a deep mournful sound, but like all bells you know that when it rings it means another angel has gotten his wings.”

Phil rubbed furiously at his burning eyes. “So what you’re telling me is that I need to choose between a world in which my friends die and one in which the battle of New York doesn’t happen.”

Phil clutched tightly at Clarence’s hand. “What about Clint? Is he alive? Please tell me he’s safe with SHIELD?”

Clarence hesitated. “He’s alive, but he’s not with SHIELD. Would you like to see him?”

Phil didn’t hesitate – it had been so long since he’d seen Clint, he couldn’t resist the temptation. “Yes, please.”

The world around them faded out and re-established itself as a grungy looking bar. There were Christmas carols playing through cheap speakers with a constant static hum in the background and a half-hearted attempt had been made to put up Christmas decorations around the bar; but the droopy garland and half-burnt out lights just made the space look more pathetic and forlorn while doing nothing to disguise the sticky residue left on most of the surfaces from spilt drinks that no one had bothered to clean up.

Phil scanned the bar and it didn’t take him long to spot Clint. There were only a half dozen patrons, none of them sitting near each other and most of them focused too intently on their drink to notice anything else around them.

Clint was sitting at the bar twisting back and forth on the barstool, a tell Phil knew meant he was feeling restless and was more likely than usual to talk.

On impulse, Phil walked over and took the stool beside Clint. This Clint looked like the man Phil knew. He had a few more lines around the eyes and there was a scar across his cheek that was new, but he looked good. Phil’s shoulders relaxed and he breathed out some of his stress. Clint was safe. He motioned for the barkeep to come over and was about to order a drink when Clint surprised him by breaking the silence.

Clint said, “Well hellooooo there, stranger,” and flashed him a saucy wink. “I’ve been a very bad boy this year so I wasn’t expecting a Christmas gift, but maybe you’re the kind of present reserved just for bad boys?”

Phil was shocked into honest laughter and Clint’s unexpected directness had clearly short circuited his usual ability to self-censor because he blurted out, “I don’t think anyone has ever called me a present before.”

Clint gave him an over exaggerated leer and when Phil couldn’t help but blush, Clint smiled brightly at him and scooted his stool a little bit closer. “I’d have to unwrap you first to be sure.”

Phil’s mind raced. How was it possible that he’d spent years crushing on Clint and never received even one of the casual flirtatious winks that he handed out like candy to everyone else and yet this Clint’s first instinct was to proposition him? Phil fumbled for his words. “I umm, but I, ahh, I don’t have a room near here.”

Clint’s sudden harsh laughter grated on Phil’s ears. In all the years he’d known Clint, he’d never heard such a cold sound coming from the man who was all heart. Clint said derisively, “You think I’d go back to a stranger’s place? No. Sorry handsome, but even you aren’t good enough looking to tempt me into that. There’s a motel down the street the charges by the hour. If you’re as good as you look, I’ll even spring for all night. Whadd’a ya say?”

Phil felt like he was going to be sick. The Clint he knew hated hourly motels the same way Phil hated the desert. While Phil didn’t regret serving his country in the war; afterwards, it was never possible for him to feel safe in the desert and he knew that, in a similar way, hourly motels reminded Clint of the worst times of his life. It was a small thing, but the fact that this Clint was still using hourly motels made Phil’s insides twist up uncomfortably. He didn’t want there to exist a world where Clint, his wonderful, funny, brilliant Clint had never learned to feel safe.

Clint reached a hand out to grab his shoulder. “Whoa there, are you okay, bro? You just went real pale on me.”

Phil took a breath to calm his frayed nerves and forced himself to assume the role he was playing here. Phil forced a smile and hid the lie behind the truth. “You just reminded me of someone I used to know.”

Clint released his arm and shifted back onto his stool. He eyed Phil curiously, “A good someone or a bad someone?”

Phil smiled and the blush came easily. “Good. Definitely good. But they definitely never described me as a present.”

Clint laughed, “Well their loss, and if you treat me good, I’m not too fussy about who you think about when your eyes are closed. So whadda’ ya say handsome? Want to grab a room or not?”

Phil hesitated, “Can I buy you a drink or two first?”

Clint barked a surprised laugh. “Ohhhh, classy man. I should have known that from your suit. Alright, but I’m just drinking cola, I like to keep my wits about me.”

Phil nodded. His Clint had been the same when they first met. _Clint had been so afraid that if he started to drink he’d end up like his dad, so he never touched alcohol except for show. Eventually, Clint had learned to trust himself and the people around him enough that he’d chosen to test his own limits by drinking. The hangover had been awful and Phil and Natasha had been equally torn between pity and amusement at Clint’s moaning; but there had been a moment, Clint collapsed on Phil’s couch and Phil bringing him a fresh cool compress for his eyes, Clint had looked up at Phil and winced from the light, but then he’d smiled this blindingly bright smile right at Phil and said, “All I did last night was laugh.” A small joyous sound of laughter escaped and he winced but kept smiling. “I’m never going to drink that much again, but I know if I do, I’m never going to be like him.” Phil had pressed the cool compress back on Clint’s head and said, “You could never be like him. You have the heart of a hero.”_

Phil had to shake his head a bit to focus himself on where he was and the man in front of him. Phil said, “Sure, I’ll buy you the fanciest cola this joint has to offer. Maybe they’ll even put a little umbrella in it.”

Clint laughed and for a moment is sounded more like the Clint Phil knew: less bitter and surprised – more happy. “You’re something else, handsome.”

Phil smiled and gave his head a self-deprecating shake. “You know you’re gorgeous right? You don’t need to be buttering me up; I’m already buying you drinks.”

Clint gave a little shrug. “I’m not buttering anybody up – also, food kink not my thing so that’s off the table – I’m just calling it like I see it.”

Phil gave him a skeptical look and then played it up for laughs by saying primly, “So balding men with bad eyesight are your definition of handsome? The younger generation has very low standards…”

Phil was rewarded with another laugh from Clint and it made his heart flutter. Why was this Clint so easy to flirt with but his own had no interest in him? Clint said, “Oh babe, are you kidding me? Sexy older guy like you with the glasses and obviously fit underneath that sharp suit? You’ve been exactly my type for as long as I can remember.”

And that made Phil pause for thought. If the drinking was any clue, this Clint had lived the same life as his Clint had before SHIELD, so if Phil was this Clint’s type, why wasn’t his Clint interested in him?

Clint’s phone rang and he gave Phil an apologetic smile. “That’ll be my sister. Just give me a minute.”

Clint took a few steps away and Phil couldn’t hear who he was on the phone with but he always had a knack for hearing Clint’s voice even when he was just one of many talking. Making out his words in a mostly quiet bar was easy.

 

> “Don’t worry, Nat. I’m safe.”
> 
> “Yes, I’m sure. I lost them hours ago. I’m just hanging at a gay bar in the middle of nowhere.”
> 
> “I’m sure I wasn’t followed.”
> 
> “I know; pissing off the big boss was stupid. I’m sorry. It’ll be okay. I’m just going to lay low for a while.”
> 
> “We can head to Asia or something next. There’s got to be some country where I haven’t pissed off both sides of the law.”
> 
> “Okay. Talk soon. And Merry Christmas, Natasha.”
> 
> Phil tried to hide his smile. So Clint had Natasha. This was okay. Clint was going to be okay.

Clint came back to join him at the bar and eyed his drink. “My sister worries. She likes to check in a lot.”

Phil stopped trying to smother his smile and let his fondness show through. “The best family is like that. Is there any reason for her to be worried about you on Christmas Eve?”

Clint gave small shrug. “Ehhh. I kinda pissed off our last boss. He had plans, I had issues with his plans, I’ve never been good at keeping my trap shut. I beat up a few of his guys on my way out. It wasn’t pretty.”

Phil ran his fingers over Clint’s scarred knuckles. More sincerely than he intended, he said, “I’m sure you were just doing what was right.”

Phil heard Clint’s sharp intake of breath and then a slow exhale. Clint’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment and then said, “Look, I don’t usually do this kind of thing. Usually I’m a wham-bam-thank-you-sir, kinda guy, and I don’t even know your name yet, but, shit this sounds stupid, but would you maybe want to do more than that? Or less than that? Or whatever it would be, but, you know it’s Christmas Eve and all, so what would happen if instead of starting this conversation by asking you to get a hotel for a night, I asked you to go take a walk with me and look at the Christmas lights?”

“That sounds perfect.” The words were out before Phil realized what he had said. Shit. He hadn’t meant for any of this. But Clint was looking at him with bright clear blue eyes that were so open and honest… and Clint had always been Phil’s kryptonite.

Clint hopped off his barstool and reached his hand out for Phil to take. “Let’s take a walk, handsome.”

Phil reached out and took his calloused hand. He just couldn’t think what else to do.

They walked to the exit, each step making an ugly sound as the sticky floor clung to their shoes but Clint’s eyes were dancing and so focused on him that Phil was oblivious to anything ugly about their surroundings.

Phil stepped forward and without letting go of Clint’s hand, he held the door open for him.

Clint smiled at him again and Phil melted a little inside.

Clint said, “Oh, by the way, my name is Clint.”

Phil heard an almost silent pop and before he realized what that sound was, he felt the weight of Clint’s body pulling him down.

A perfect bullet hole marred Clint’s forehead just above his left eye and the blood was starting to pulse out.

Clint was dead before he hit the ground.

Phil heard the unearthly wail coming from his own mouth and he clutched at Clint. No! It couldn’t be true! The universe wouldn’t be so cruel.

Other people were saying things.

Other people were moving around him.

None of it felt real.

There was a voice in his ear, a man beside him, telling him they had to go, that they couldn’t be here because they weren’t real.

None of his words made any sense.

Lying on the ground beside Clint, he pulled him even closer. He brushed the forever-messy blond hair to the side and didn’t even try to blink back the tears.

He said, “I take it back. I take it all back. I don’t care what happens to me. Don’t let him die like this, don’t let my friends be dead, please.”

The lights turned to flashing blue and red and then the world dissolved around him.

 

* * *

 

Clarence wrapped his arms around Phil and Phil cried until he felt like he didn’t have any tears left.

Phil said, “Every universe is terrible. This world has nothing but death in it for those I care about most, and my world has the death of thousands. It’s not fair Clarence and I can’t possibly choose.”

Clarence handed him a handkerchief and patted his back consolingly. “I’m sorry, Phil. I know this would be easier for you if the world was better without you, but you made a difference to a lot of people.”

Phil sniffed back more tears and tried to keep his voice steady. “What about SHIELD? Is it still strong?”

Clarence hesitated. “It’s strong, but it’s not what you think.”

Phil said, “Can you show me? Can you show me SHIELD and what it has become in this world?”

Clarence hesitated, as if he was listening to something only he could hear and then he spoke. “I can show you a vision of something that has not yet happened, but will. The boss thinks that will give you the best perspective on what SHIELD is now.”

Clarence waved his hand and the vision in front of Phil changed, instead of the cold desert night vista, he saw before him the Director’s office at SHIELD.

He recognized the man sitting behind the desk, it was Pierce, Nick’s boss on the World Security Council. Phil felt his shoulders relax a bit, this wasn’t too bad. Pierce was speaking in German and it took Phil a few moments to translate. His German wasn’t perfect and Pierce was speaking quickly, but he picked out enough of the key words.

> “Our alliance with the Red Room is confirmed.”
> 
> “The time for our great reveal is coming.”
> 
> “Hail HYDRA.”

Phil felt sick to his stomach. He choked out, “I take it back. Oh God, Clarence, I take it all back. Please! Let me live. Please. I’m sorry for what I said. I know I’m always going to be alone and I’m never going to have Clint love me the way I love him, but please for the love of God, have mercy, take me back. I don’t want this universe to be real. Please take me back!”


	3. Chapter Three

The world dissolved around them and Phil found himself back in his hospital bed. He blinked back tears and frantically reached for his bedside table and phone. He cried out in pain as the quick movement tore painfully at his stitches and the blood started to ooze through the ripped stitches. He pressed his hand to the wound and laughed with joy. He was here. He was back. He was alive. Whatever terrible nightmare or dream he’d had, it was over and he was alive.

He collapsed back on his bed, closed his eyes, breathed a sigh of relief and tried to rein his emotions in before calling the nurse to see to his stitches.

A voice behind him said in wonder… “I can avoid being seen if I wish, but to disappear entirely, that is a rare gift.”

Phil’s eyes snapped open and he whipped his head around to find the voice in the darkness. It couldn’t be…

Leaning against the wall under the air ventilation shaft, with just a beam of moonlight from the high window illuminating him, stood Clint Barton in his infiltration Hawkeye uniform. Phil thought he was the most beautiful vision he had ever seen; his heart monitor started to beep erratically and he had to blink back tears.

Clint was instantly beside him, he pressed his hand to the bandage on his chest and with his other he took Phil’s hand. All teasing gone from his tone he said, “Coulson, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?”

Phil’s voice trembled, “You’re alive. Oh thank god, Clint.” He brought Clint’s hand to his lips and kissed his scarred knuckle reverently. “Thank God you’re alive. I don’t want to live a world where you died or didn’t feel safe.” He kissed each of his knuckles in turn and couldn’t stop the tear that slowly slipped down his cheek.

Clint cupped Phil’s face with his other hand. He said gently, “Of course I’m okay, boss. I’m right here. Are you okay? What’s going on?”

Phil closed his eyes and pressed his face into Clint’s palm, the reassuring strength of him felt so good. Phil murmured, “I thought I had lost you. That hurt worse than losing Nick and even more than losing SHIELD. I love you. I know you don’t feel the same, but that’s why I didn’t do it and that’s why I took on Loki – I couldn’t live in a world without you.”

Clint gasped and then made a choking sound. He caressed Phil’s face and moved his other hand away from Phil’s lips to stroke his hair. Clint said, “Shit, boss. They must have you on something even stronger than the good drugs. Do you even know who I am?”

Phil placed his hand over top of Clint’s on his cheek and looked right into his perfect blue eyes. He said, “You are Clinton Francis Barton, codename Hawkeye. You walked through the fires of hell as a child but grew up to be a man with a heart of a hero. I recruited you after you pissed off one too many mob bosses and I’ve been in love with you since before you went MIA to bring in Natasha. I don’t know when I fell in love with you, but that moment when I thought I lost you was when I realized it. I know it’s inappropriate and I never wanted to make you uncomfortable, but we don’t work together anymore and you almost died and I did die and I’m not expecting anything in return...” He closed his eyes again and pressed Clint’s hand more firmly against his cheek as if more pressure would help him memorize the feel of his skin better. “But you’ve been the brightest spot in my world for years. Anything I could ever do to make you laugh, to make you happy, to make your day better; I did it all because I love you.”

Phil opened his eyes at the feel of Clint’s breath against his face, then he gasped and his eyes involuntarily closed as he felt the softest brush of Clint’s soft lips against his own.

Phil’s heart monitor started to beep alarmingly and Clint huffed a small laugh against Phil’s lips. “You alright there, sir?”

Phil whined softly at the loss of Clint’s lips. He whispered, “Are you real, Clint?”

Clint said, “Sir, the only reason you caught me is because when I first saw you, I thought you were so gorgeous you took my breath away and I slipped. I had a crush on you since day one and if I thought there had been a snowball’s chance in hell that you wanted me, I would have kissed you years ago.”

Phil’s heart monitor beeping increased and his vision started go a little fuzzy. He tried to form words, but nothing came out.

Clint brushed his lips against Phil’s forehead and said, “It’s going to be okay.”

 

* * *

 

The next time Phil woke up, sunlight was just starting to creep in through the window and at the foot of his bed was a table with a small Christmas tree on it. Phil blinked twice but the Christmas tree remained.

He heard a voice off to his side say, “Merry Christmas, Coulson,” and Phil’s heart monitor started to beep more quickly. It didn’t seem possible. It didn’t seem real.

He turned his head slowly and there, beside him, uniform rumpled but eyes bright, was Clint Barton sitting in his visitor’s chair.

Phil said, “Are you real?” His voice was rough and he rubbed at his eyes to wipe away the sleep.

Clint handed him a glass of water and helped him lift it to his lips. He said warmly, “You keep asking me that, but I feel like I should be asking you if you are real.”

Phil’s hand unconsciously moved to press against the wound on his chest. He said bitterly, “I’m real.”

Clint said, “But we all thought you were dead.”

Phil said, “I was.”

Clint said, “You’re gonna have to give me more than that, boss. Please.”

Phil said, “I was dead. I died when Loki stabbed me and then a few more times during the recovery surgeries. I’m healing now, but it’s slow.” Phil blinked as he started to wake up and put more pieces together. “Barton, how did you find me and how you are still here? Director Fury was very clear that no one could know I survived.” Clint flinched and Phil just felt more confused.

Clint’s voice lost some of the previous warmth and he seemed more distant. “Sir, we’ve only got a few minutes for the rest of the Avengers arrive, and I’ve got about a million questions I want to ask you about what happened; but, before they get here, just…” Clint trailed off as if he didn’t know how to finish his thought.

Phil said with concern, “Barton, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Clint barked a bitter laugh. “God, I was so happy when you started calling me ‘Barton’ instead of just “Agent”, now I just want to hear you call me Clint again. Please sir, I don’t know how out of it you were last night, but I’ve been driving myself crazy imagining what it would be like to kiss you every morning. I even begged Nat to bring over a Christmas tree so we could have Christmas morning together. But now you’re calling me ‘Barton’ again and I don’t know what it means. Natasha and Steve are dealing with Director Fury and Tony and Bruce and Pepper are dealing with the hospital staff and I’ve only got a few minutes with you before they come back and I don’t know what you want from me. Please sir, I’ve been in love with you forever but if you didn’t mean it last night, please just put me out of my misery and tell me.”

Phil said, “Clint, I’m so in love with you that one kiss was almost too much for my heart to handle. Please, stay with me.”

Clint’s smile was so bright, just having it directed at him filled Phil with joy, and it also made his heart monitor start to beep faster.

Clint came close enough to take Phil’s hand and brought it to his lips for a gallant kiss. He said, “I’d really like to kiss you, but I don’t want you to pass out on me again. The doctor gave you a sedative to make you rest, and I think the Avengers might ban me from your room if—” Clint cut himself off as Phil’s heart monitor started to rapidly accelerate. Clint chuckled and kissed Phil’s hand again. “Okay, I promise, I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to stay right here with you until you are all better, and if anyone tries to stop me, we’ll just make them listen to that and they’ll know I’m good for your heart. Also, can we keep that thing on you forever? It’s the best thing ever for letting me know how you feel.”

Phil smiled up at Clint and he felt like he’d never be able to stop smiling. “Kiss me one more time, Clint? You’ll know if we need to stop.”

Clint sat down on the bed beside Phil and then after a moment’s hesitation, lay down on his side between Phil and the rails on his bed. It was a tight fit, but Phil shifted over as best he could and despite his bulk, Clint found space on the bed for himself. He folded his arm and rested his head on his hand so he could lean over top of Phil.

Clint said softly, “You just lay there and let me do all the work, okay sir?”

Phil said, “Okay, but call me ‘Phil’?”

Clint breathed against his lips, “I love you, Phil,” and pressed their lips together in the softest of kisses.

Kissing Clint made Phil feel like he was flying effortlessly, like everything around him had vanished and all he felt was the soft bed under him, Clint’s arm wrapped around him and Clint’s lips were the center of his world. He licked his way into Clint’s mouth and Clint whimpered above him. Clint tasted like coffee and felt like heaven. The rhythmic beeping of Phil’s heart monitor began to beep more erratically and with a sigh Clint pulled away slowly. Phil became aware of another sound under the beeping: a bell on the Christmas tree was ringing.

Clint frowned and looked over at the tree. “We didn’t put any ornaments on it yet…”

But his musing was cut off by the door to Phil’s room banging open and Natasha, Tony, Pepper, Happy, Steve, Bruce, Thor, Jasper, Maria, Melinda, Andrew and finally Nick crowding into his room. The group’s chatter turned to shocked silence as Phil suddenly realized how he and Clint must look and his heart monitor started to beep faster.

Clint said very sternly, “Yes, Agent Coulson is alive and yes I’m in bed with him and no I’m not going anywhere. Anyone who has a problem with that can take it up with the Black Widow.” He cast a quick look towards Natasha and without hesitation she stepped forward and turned to face the group. “Understood?” Clint lifted right eyebrow just a little and Phil suddenly felt the urge to giggle as he realized that Clint was doing his famous (and Phil was _not_ supposed to know about) Agent Coulson impersonation.

The heart monitor beeps filled the brief silence until Tony said, “Huh, Agent Agent and lover-bird, who would've known?” and then the room was filled with the chatter of everyone.

“Phil, so glad you’re alive.”

“Glad to have you back, Coulson.”

“Phil, we missed you.”

“Coulson, wait until I tell you what you missed.”

The voices of everyone talking over each other drowned out each individual voice and Phil had to blink back tears. How could he have known that so many people would go to all this trouble for him? Not only had the Avengers somehow found out about him and found him, they’d gone toe-to-toe with Fury and won, and all of these people had dropped everything to come to his bedside; and he had Clint. He had Clint in his arms and he was never going to let go.

He let the sounds of everyone’s chatter wash over him and just looked up into Clint’s beautiful blue eyes. He whispered, “I love you.”

Clint kissed his nose and said softly, “I love you too. And so do they and none of us are ever going to lose you again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to know what you thought, so please leave a comment :)  
> Comments are like cookies, only calorie free so even better!


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